


Helping Hand

by ProblematicPancakes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5698366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProblematicPancakes/pseuds/ProblematicPancakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has had strange occurrences happen to him for the past few weeks. But when these occurrences lead to him destroying an important piece of wizard literature he decides to find out what's causing the predicament - all while trying to figure out how to fix the book without anyone finding out he's responsible for the damage! Will he need to turn to some unexpected people to find his answers?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not a Clue

It wasn’t as if anyone got hurt. He could swear that just a minute ago he was still in bed, sleeping as peacefully as the situation around him allowed, trying to steer his thoughts away from the neverending nightmares. And yet, he found himself standing in the middle of the field, his pale, lanky frame illuminated only by the gentle light of the Moon at its central position in the sky, shivering from the cold, autumn night. He thought that definitely, if he knew he was coming here, he would have put some clothes on. Instead, he was rubbing one of his hands against the length of the other arm, up and down, trying to create as much friction as possible, to heat up his naked skin. In front of him, on the ground, pages ripped out from an ancient book twirled around with the gentle breeze of the wind, at times caressing his freezing calves. Blood dripped from his forehead, straight onto the green grass, like water from a faulty tap.  
  
Draco wiped away at the wound, smearing fresh, red blood all over the side of his palm. His teeth jittering, he quickly glanced around and scanned the field. There was no one there. Just him, and the book. From the corner of his eye he saw the cover of the book. Slowly, he picked it up and examined the title. It was clear that he was the one who destroyed it. Not with magic, as his wand was not present at the scene - but rather, with sheer physical force. He needed to know what this book was, so that he could work out why in Merlin’s name would he ever destroy a book. Slowly, he turned around to direct as much of the moonlight onto the faded letters.  
  
Draco Malfoy has just destroyed the last remaining copy of the “Pureblood History and Genealogy”.

 

The following morning, the young Malfoy was only present at the dining table physically. His head was pounding, and his body was slow to forget the torture of the night’s weather. He held his face in his hands as he glared at the piece of toast on his plate.  
  
Even after he got to the castle, he failed to fall back asleep. As soon as he realised which book he has destroyed, he ran back to the dormitory, grabbed his wand and tried every spell possible to put the book back together. After trying for an hour, he noticed faint writing on the inside of the cover. However, it was not in English, and it was not Runes either. He traced the unfamiliar, curly letters with his fingers, but could not recognise the writing system. Defeated, he clutched the cover tightly and went back to bed. The curious writing, and the fact that he destroyed the only copy of such an important text unknowingly, kept him up all night.  
  
As he squinted his eyes and tried to block out the general loudness of the hall, Draco suddenly came to a realisation which sent a shocking shiver down his spine. His body straightened itself and his eyes grew wide. He realised that it was only a matter of time before someone realises that the book is missing. If he was to be in any way connected with the disappearance - and destruction - of that priceless book, he wouldn’t go unpunished.  
  
Draco’s train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt by a concerned voice coming from the opposite side of the table.  
  
“Are you alright, Draco?” Pansy Parkinson asked, her eyes drilling into the boy’s face. “You look like you just saw a Dementor.”  
  
Draco blinked, trying to comprehend the girl’s words, but quickly came about. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I just… remembered I forgot to do my Potions homework.” He said, trying to sound convincing. His new plan was to not tell anyone about what happened the night before and to somehow, without becoming too suspicious, find a person who could identify and translate the writing in the book.  
  
“Potions? We don’t have Potions until Wednesday afternoon, I haven’t even touched the essay!” Pansy replied, raising her voice accusatively. “Have you hit your head so hard that you forgot what the date is?”  
  
Draco looked at her questioningly.  
  
“Yeah, that cut on your head looks pretty serious, are you sure you’re here with us?”  
  
The boy completely forgot that the cut was visible to other people. For some strange reason, recently he just wasn’t aware of anything that went on around him. He easily forgot important things, he found himself in strange places without remembering how he got there. At this point in time, he wasn’t surprised that the possibility of his cut being seen slightly omitted him.  
  
“Ah, that.” He didn’t remember how he got the cut, so he quickly made up a story and hoped in his mind that it will convince the gossip-hungry brunette. “Yeah, I slipped in the bathroom and hit my head on the sink. Painful, but I think I’m fine.”  
  
“Hmmm.” Pansy’s eyes scanned the blonde boy up and down. She tore off a piece of her toast and threw it in her mouth. “Whatever. If you feel any worse, go to the infirmary.”  
  
Draco just nodded and glanced down at his own toast once again. He sighed and grabbed his cup of pumpkin juice, downing it in one go. He decided that he must go and examine the damage done to his face before anyone starts doubting his story.  
  
Without a word, young Malfoy rose from his seat, threw his legs over the bench and, with his head up high, paraded out of the dining hall. 

 

After careful consideration, Draco decided that his bathroom story seemed believable enough considering the appearance of the mark on his head. It looked disgusting, with the dried up blood clotting along the line of the cut, but a bit of water cleared it up enough to make it look decent. The boy decided that even if he was to die today, he would not go to the Infirmary. He had to find out for himself first how he got this cut and how it is possible that he doesn’t remember leaving the castle at night. Afterall, it could be anything, and the Malfoy heir could not be perceived to be a lunatic of any sorts. No, he had to figure it out on his own.  
  
His musings were interrupted by the chime of an ancient, magical clock he was given for his fifteenth birthday by one of his father’s friends from the Ministry. It was a beautiful object, made out of ebony with an ivory face and golden hands, and its chime was the music of the Ministry orchestra. As gorgeous as it was, it didn’t change the fact that Draco was now five minutes late to his Ancient Runes classroom. He wouldn’t have bothered if it was a single lesson, but because they had doubles on Friday mornings he groaned, grabbed his school bag from the chair next to his bed and stormed out of the chambers, slamming the door behind him.

 

Draco knew he had to be inconspicuous. Everyone seemed to be in his business nowadays, and half of Hogwarts would pay any price to have a new topic for gossip about the young Malfoy. He knew that if he was seen rummaging through the medical section of the library, people would come up with the most ridiculous stories and illnesses that he apparently has. The Infirmary was, of course, out of the question. The only thing he could do was to sneak into the library at night or ask his godfather, Professor Snape, to help him out. As he chewed through a bite of chicken leg at the dining table, he weighed the two options and decided that the latter was probably safer. From the corner of his eye he saw the Potions master sitting at the teachers’ table, his chin resting on a clenched fist and his black eyes drilling holes into Draco’s skull. The boy pretended not to notice as he swallowed his food, but kept on glancing towards the Professor every now and then, trying to catch the moment where the man gets up and leaves. Draco sipped his pumpkin juice while nervously tapping his foot against the floor, the minutes passing feeling like an eternity.  
  
Finally, the man got up from his seat and swiftly exited the dining hall through the side door. Draco carefully put down his cup, bid farewell to his friends and quickly followed out of the main entrance, set straight for the dungeons. Despite his younger legs and considerable determination, the older man seemed to fly through the corridors as his cape waved around the numerous corridors of the castle. The boy picked up speed and finally reached the professor’s rooms at the same time as they heavily shut behind Snape. With all his might he pushed the door, grunting slightly at their weight, and fell into the room.  
  
The professor spun around instantly and eyed the boy. But before he had the chance to say anything, Malfoy caught his breath and, leaning against the door, proceeded to present the reason behind his sudden intrusion.  
  
“I need your help.”


	2. Unlucky Encounters

The Potions master silently stared at his godson. 

“Stop trying Occlumency on me, you know it won’t work.” Draco groaned and pushed himself off the door, and started to approach the other man. “You have to swear to me you won’t tell anyone.”

“My ears are open and my mouth is shut.” The Professor said through his teeth. If not for the fact that Draco has been around this man for seven years nearly every day, he would have been at least uncomfortable with the amount of staring he did. “What is it?”

“Right, there’s two things I need help with and they are, unfortunately, interconnected.” Draco inched ever closer to the man. From far away it looked like as if their noses were touching. The boy leaned in, whispering. “I think have a certain predicament that has caused a destruction of a certain priceless book.”

“And what is this… Predicament?” Snape questioned in his usual, slightly musical tone. The man seemed completely unphased by the second part of the problem.

“I’m not sure, but it’s definitely not something I can go to the Infirmary with.” Malfoy whispered in response and looked around the room as if he feared that the conversation was being eavesdropped on. “I think I’m going mad.”

“Mad?” Snape asked sarcastically. “And how does your madness present?”

“It’s not a joke. I black out and don’t remember doing things that I should remember doing.” He pointed to the scar on his head. “I get myself hurt and I don’t remember how.”

“Curious.” The professor said. “And so you destroyed the only existing copy of “Pureblood History and Genealogy” while in one of those mad states?”

Draco’s eyes grew wide. “How in Merlin’s name did you know which book it was?”

Snape kept a stone face. “Dumbledore sent out an owl to all staff notifying us that the book has been stolen from the library at night.” His eyes grew smaller. “He asked us to tell him if we have any trails to the thief.”

“Okay, no, you can’t tell him, you need to help me!” Draco cried, clenching his jaw. “There must be an explanation to this, some sort of potion or ointment that will take this curse off of me!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that the book is destroyed. You do realise what will happen when the Minister of Magic finds out?”

“Yes, I am perfectly aware of what will happen if the Minister of Magic finds out I, Draco Malfoy, destroyed the only existing records of who is and who isn’t pureblood!” The blonde shouted, his nails digging into his palms. “You are the only one I can trust with this and you are not making me feel any better or offering me any solutions!”

“Fine.” Snape snapped and quickly closed the distance between where the pair was standing and one of the cabinets. From it, he brought out a vial full of nearly transparent, yellow liquid. “Take three drops with every meal. If you are being poisoned, the symptoms shall stop after three days of use.”

Draco snapped the vial from his godfather’s fingers and slipped it into his trousers’ pocket. “And what if that doesn’t help?”

“Then come back to me and we’ll try something else.” 

The young Malfoy gave the professor one last look before turning towards the door and exiting. He now had to figure out a way to take the antidote without anyone seeing he’s taking it. He also had to think up an excuse in case he was caught taking it in secrecy.

 

Although the young Malfoy heir was content with the possible solution to his health problem, he still had another riddle to crack. That being, he had to figure out what language the writing on the inside of that book cover is. He decided that he will get to it straight away after he’s done with classes for the day.

As he pondered his plans for this evening, he felt someone staring at him. He glanced to the side and noticed that Hermione Granger was eyeing the scar on his head as she passed him. However, she turned her gaze away as soon as she caught Draco looking back at her.

Draco snorted and shook his head to himself. With one of his hands he made sure that the vial was still in his pocket and once he confirmed that it was safe and sound he went back to his musings as he made the rest of his way towards the History of Magic classroom.

 

Although after listening to Professor Binns for two hours straight Draco wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, he knew that time was of urgency. He quickly made his way from the classroom back to the dormitories, fetched the book cover and, after hiding it carefully in between his other school books, set out for the library. 

The library was pretty much empty, as exams were still a few months away. The young Malfoy tried his best to maneuver his way through the rows of bookshelves without making it obvious where he was heading. Finally, he reached the languages section.

Draco stared at the shelves for a minute or two, trying to figure out where the best place to start was. He didn’t even know which category of languages the writing fell under. As he scanned the different positions, he finally came across a good starting point. Trying not to collapse under its weight, Malfoy pulled out a huge volume, covered in layers of dust, titled ‘The Complete Classification of Muggle, Wizard and Creature Languages’.

Once he had a good grip of the book, Draco slowly walked over to the nearest table, conveniently hidden in the shadows of the library and unoccupied, and set down the book as quietly as he could. As he pulled in his chair, he slipped the book cover out of his bag and placed it on his lap. Gently, he opened the volume in front of him and began studying the different pages, constantly looking back to the cover in his lap, looking for a sign of resemblance. When he was halfway through the book and slowly losing hope, he was startled by the sudden appearance of someone by his side. He jumped up so much that the cover nearly fell off his lap.

“We’re closing in 5 minutes, Mr. Malfoy.” Madam Pince stated, holding a lamp in one of her hands. “Have you found what you were looking for?”

“Not yet.” Draco replied, trying to establish whether or not the librarian can see the cover he’s hiding under the table. 

“If it’s a language you’re trying to find, I’d advise asking your Runes professor.” The librarian said, starting to turn around. “Or, you could ask Miss Granger. She’s like a walking encyclopaedia of languages!”

With that, Madam Pince walked down the aisle and turned the corner. Brilliant idea, he thought, he could either make another teacher suspicious about his role in the destruction of the book, or he could approach the Mudblood for help. Draco sighed, rubbed his eyes and shut the book, evoking another cloud of dust. Once he cleared his throat, he quickly slid the cover back into his school bag and promptly left the library. On his way to the dormitory he weighed his options, but finally decided to sleep on the decision.

 

The next morning, Draco woke up with a huge headache and a very sore throat. As soon as he stood up from the bed, he fell right back down, his head spinning. The boy took a few deep breaths and tried getting up once again, propelling himself up against the bedpost. Once he was certain that his body was cooperating with him, he shut off the clock which was chiming to wake him up, and grabbed his uniform. Just as he was making his way towards the bathroom, he was approached by one of his roommates, Blaise Zabini.

“You alright?” Blaise asked, trying to conceal a yawn. “Where were you tonight?”

Draco looked at his friend in confusion before replying. “I was here. In bed.”

“Hmmm…” Blaise rubbed his chin then chuckled. “I must have had a very realistic dream tonight then. I swear your bed was empty in the middle of the night!” The raven-haired boy patted Malfoy on the back before walking out of the chamber. 

 

The boy couldn’t stop wondering whether what Blaise told him was really just a dream. What if he had another one of his blackout moments? He couldn’t help but worry what he could have done while not in his own mind, while not aware of his own actions. On his way down to breakfast he nearly lost consciousness, thanking only the banister for the fact he still had all his teeth in-tact. After receiving a few comments on the paleness of his skin and the fact that his general appearance suggested the need of an urgent visit to the Infirmary, Draco finally sat down at the dining table and downed a glass of pumpkin juice. As he tipped his head backwards to let the liquid flow down, he noticed a pair of eyes staring at him from the Gryffindor table. Granger was giving him a weird look, but he decided not to bother himself thinking about it.

Knowing he needs to leave in plenty of time to take the potion his godfather gave him, Draco made an excuse about feeling poorly and got up from the table, quickly staggering out of the Great Hall and heading towards an abandoned broomstick locker, situated a good distance from any of the main corridors of the castle. As Malfoy took another turn, he felt as if someone was following him. Just as he was about to open the door to the locker, a hand grabbed his right upper arm and he was suddenly brought to a halt. Trying to stop the spinning in his head, Draco looked over his shoulder to see a girly face framed by a bush of brown curls.

“What do you need my help with?” Hermione asked, glaring at the blonde boy.


	3. Getting Closer

Draco stared at the girl in front of him with a confused expression, while she continued to hold a tight grip on his upper arm. The silence seemed to drag on as the boy attempted to understand the situation and the girl awaited answers. After staring at each other for long enough, Hermione’s eyebrows grew closer together as she scrunched up her forehead in anger.

“Your owl woke me up in the middle of the night.” The girl whispered through her teeth as her grip on Draco’s arm tightened. “If this is some sick joke then I swear, Malfoy, your own mother will not recognise you when you go back home.”

Everything seemed to slowly start making sense to Draco - why he felt so tired, why Blaise thought he wasn’t in his bed at night and why the girl was staring at him all through breakfast. Somehow, because of his predicament, he managed to get up in the middle of the night, write a letter and go to the owlery to send it off… 

A sudden realisation hit him. He didn’t remember the note, so he didn’t remember what he had written in it. What if he outed himself as the mad book-destroying culprit? Just as the boy was starting to sweat at the fear of revealing himself, he noticed Hermione rummaging around in her pockets, finally pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment which she proceeded to throw at the boy.

Draco barely caught the paper and nervously unwrapped it as the girl looked on. The parchment clearly had his handwriting on it, but he sighed with relief as he skimmed the contents of the letter. He didn’t let any details slip - he only asked that Hermione helps him out with a problem he was having.

Before the girl had a chance to say anything else, Draco grabbed her wrist gently, opened the door to the broomstick locker with his other hand and shut the door once the pair were inside. From the inside of his robe he pulled out his wand and cast the Lumos spell, illuminating the cramped room.

“Listen, this is a very tricky situation I have found myself in.” The boy said as he paced up and down in the small space available, his fingers running through his blonde hair. “You know I wouldn’t ask you for help if I could do without.”

“Yeah, I figured that much.” Hermione said, following the nervous Draco with her eyes and tapping her foot. “So, what is it then?”

“You have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not even Potter.” Draco whispered, pointing his finger in the girl’s direction. 

“What have you done, Malfoy?”

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve done, all that matters is that I’m trying to fix it, and I need your help.” The boy fell back against the wall and looked up towards the ceiling, briefly closing his eyes. “And it’s very important, to the whole of the wizard community.”

Hermione sighed. “Alright, but only this one time, I’ll help you.” 

Draco pulled out the book cover from his school bag and handed it over to Hermione. The girl glanced at the cover for a second before her eyes grew wide. She raised her head, giving the blonde boy a petrified look.

“Is this… What I think it is?” She asked, running her hand over the cover as if checking if it was real. 

“Yes, yes it is, okay, don’t ask why or how I got it.” Draco groaned and walked over to stand by Hermione’s side. The height difference was clearly visible here as his chin gently touched the top of the girl’s bushy hair. “Look on the inside of the cover.”

The girl obliged and slowly opened the cover, as if worried she might break it further. Draco rose his wand to illuminate the letters.

“I don’t know what this says or what language this is. I’ve had a look in the Complete Classification, but I found no language even remotely similar to this one.” The boy explained, as he shifted his weight. “Madam Pince told me yesterday that you are the best person to ask.”

Draco could feel the girl smiled gently at the indirect compliment from the librarian before she replied.

“I have never seen this writing system before either.” She said as she seemed to study each letter carefully. Her fingers traced the curly shapes up and down. “I’ll have a look. Can’t make any promises, Malfoy, but I’ll do my best.”

Just as the girl was preparing to leave, Draco grabbed her shoulder gently and she stopped.

“Make sure no one sees that you have the cover.” 

She nodded, quickly stashing the cover in between her own books in her bag. As she pushed the locker door open, she heard Draco speak softly.

“By the way… Thanks.” He mustered up a slight smile. “I appreciate it.”

Hermione smiled back gently and left promptly, closing the door behind her. 

 

Draco spent the rest of the day wondering what in Merlin’s name was going on with his life. The Draco he was used to would never ask a Mudblood for help. And yet here he was, making Hermione Granger an accomplice in the mess he got himself in. The lack of sleep at night and the general feeling of being unwell didn’t help him at all as he lounged around in the Slytherin Common Room, pretending to concentrate on the conversation his housemates were having about the upcoming Quidditch match. He slipped away at one point to go and take his antidote - which he was now convinced was only making matters worse. The boy decided that if he didn’t feel any better by tomorrow, he would go back to his godfather for another remedy.

Just as he was tipping the yellow drops into his mouth, he heard the door open behind him. Draco quickly swallowed the antidote and slipped the vial into his sleeve before turning around to see who it was. To his surprise, it was Hermione Granger, holding an Invisibility Cloak draped over her arm.

“How on Earth did you get in?” Draco questioned, quickly checking the chamber to see if there definitely wasn’t anyone else in it. “You can’t be seen here!”

“Oh shut up, Malfoy, will you?” Hermione retorted, closing the distance between them and falling onto his bed. “I’ve had an initial look at the writing and I referenced it with all the books I have, but so far I haven’t had a match.” She sighed, running her hand through her hair. “But more importantly, what’s that in your sleeve?”

“It’s none of your business.” Malfoy blurted out, squeezing the vial tighter as it began slipping out. 

“Why are you always like this? I’m genuinely concerned.” The girl said, slightly taken aback. “Are you alright?”

“No. I’m not alright.”

“Have you been to the Infirmary?” 

“Why does everyone want me to go to the Infirmary, I can’t go!” Draco groaned, clenching his fists. “Not with this.”

“Not with what?” Hermione asked, giving Draco a quizzing look.

“Do you always need to know everything?” Draco shook his head and sighed. “Fine. But if you tell anyone…”

“I think we established I won’t tell anyone anything already.” The girl retorted sharply, rolling her eyes. “This is as awkward for me as it is for you.”

“Right. Well, you see, I have this predicament…” Draco said, trying to find the right words to express his illness in a way that didn’t make him sound like a madman. “I do things and I don’t remember doing them. And what I was drinking is an antidote to poisons, but it hasn’t been helping at all.”

“Curious. Is that why you didn’t remember sending that owl to me?” Hermione asked, looking out through the window. It was already dark outside, but from the windows the lake could be seen, reflecting the moon. Draco nodded in reply, but didn’t say anything, so the girl continued. “Regardless, I won’t tell anyone. But you really need to find a way to get this sorted out before it gets worse.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Draco replied. He felt really uncomfortable having this casual chit-chat with the girl he spent the last six years bullying. 

“Well, I’ll get going now.” Hermione said, and stood up from the bed. “I’ll have another look at the writing tomorrow, hopefully I find something. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Thanks.” 

With that, the girl got up and put the invisibility cloak on. Draco watched as the door opened and closed and then decided that he couldn’t wait until tomorrow. He needed to ask Professor Snape for another remedy tonight. With that, he followed the girl and left the Slytherin Common Room.

As he made his way towards Snape’s dungeon, he couldn’t help but feel like him forming some sort of a connection with Hermione. It felt like a good thing. Just as he was about to push the door to his godfather’s classroom open, he stopped, hearing a heated conversation inside. Dumbledore was talking with Snape about him.


End file.
